imprisonment in the Tower of London; the confusion and dispersion of
his adherents; the ecclesiastical finesse and conjuror-tricks of
Dunstan; the king's rescue and temporary success; the murder of
Elgiva, and Edwin's own death in the essay to avenge her. It is around
Dunstan, the representative of spiritual despotism, that the interest
centres. The character of this 'Saint,' like that of Hildebrand and à
Becket, has been made one of the problems of history. Mr Taylor's
reading of the part is masterly, and we think correct. His Dunstan is
not wholly sane; he believes himself inspired to read the alphabet of
Heaven's stars, and to behold visions beyond the bounds of human
foresight; one of the few to whom, 'and not in mercy, is it given to
read the mixed celestial cypher: not in mercy, save as a penance
merciful in issue.' His mischievous influence over the popular mind is
sealed by the partial and latent degree of his insanity, for 'madness
that doth least declare itself endangers most, and ever most infects
the unsound many.' His great natural powers are tainted by the one
black spot; his youth has been devoted to books, to the study of
chemistry and mechanics; his manhood to observing 'the ways of men and
policies of state' in the court of Edred; 'and were he not pushed
sometimes past the confines of his reason, he would o'ertop the
world.' Next to him in interest comes Earl Leolf, from whose lips
proceed some of the finest poetry in the play, especially that
exquisite soliloquy[8] on the sea-shore at Hastings. Athulf, the
brother of Elgiva, is another happy portrait--a man bright and jocund
as the morn, who can and will detect the springs of fruitfulness and
joy in earth's waste places, and whose bluff dislike of Dunstan is
aptly illustrated in the scene where he brings the king's commands,
and is kept waiting by the monks during Dunstan's matutinal
flagellation:--